


sister of the moon

by stevienickz



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Ben is an asshole, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Palpatine was a bad guy but Snoke is DEFINITELY worse, Rey Palpatine, Rey is a witch, Rey owns a flower shop, Supernatural Elements, shitty childhood moments, watch me make up shit about witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23549068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevienickz/pseuds/stevienickz
Summary: "I will burn it all to the ground, Rey. Give it to me or I'll burn it all.""Over my dead body.""Oh, sweetheart. That can be arranged."Rey Palpatine should've known better than to think that the darkness in Exegol died alongside her grandfather. Instead, it returns in the form of Ben Solo, a man hellbent on tearing down everything she loves.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 22
Kudos: 32





	1. something wicked this way comes;

**Author's Note:**

> Quarantine sucks and this is my way of entertaining myself. I listened to a lot of Stevie Nicks and binge-watched a lot of Charmed and came out with this! Enjoy!

**_as above, so below  
as within, so without;_ **

* * *

Rey was seven years old when she was shipped off to live with her grandfather in the States. Her parents, now faceless and voiceless blurs lost in the fuzz of her childhood memories, had died in a tragic car accident, and the only remaining family member with the means to take care of a devastated orphan was an unusual old man who lived in a cliffside manor in a seaside town unbeknownst to anyone but tourists taking the scenic route down the coast, like something out of a daydream.

She was eight when it had first manifested. Her grandfather had never been a particularly kind man, nor an understanding one, and they’d gotten into an argument because she’d wanted to be able to play outside with the other kids after school and he’d outright refused. _“You’re not like them,”_ he’d said, _“and they won’t accept you because of that. It’s better you stay inside with me.”_

He’d been right, of course. Most of the children in Exegol’s tiny elementary school had decided, without even talking to her, that her relation to the town’s ‘kook’ was enough to warrant complete avoidance. She’d only been able to make one friend thus far—Rose—and that had been because she’d recently moved to Exegol as well. However, being told to her face what she already subconsciously knew had only served to make Rey even more determined to put herself out there.

_“You can’t tell me what to do!”_ Rey had screamed back. _“You’re not my dad!”_

_“No,”_ Palpatine had scoffed. _“Your father’s dead, Rey, and I’m all you have left. So you will listen.”_

It had been like pouring salt into a festering wound that had yet to begin healing. Sheev’s words hit Rey hard, right in the chest, and it felt like her heart had dropped into her stomach. Yes, her dad was dead—her dad was dead, and so was her mother, and she was alone.

The sudden onset of grief was thick and painful, and it made her insides feel heavy. Rey didn’t even notice that she was sobbing until she felt the ticklish sensation of her tears rolling down her neck.

_“Why would you say that?”_ she’d wailed. _“Why?”_

_“Yesss,”_ Palpatine had hissed, crouching down to grab at Rey’s shoulders. _“Feel it, child. Revel in it. Feed it.”_

_“Stop it,_ ” Rey cried out. _“Let go of me!”_

Palpatine’s hold had only tightened. _“Feed it, Rey.”_

Something bubbled deep in the pit of her insides. It crawled up into her chest, up into her throat, up into her mind. She felt the claws of it sink deep into her tissue and make a home in the void her parents had left—the walls almost seemed to shake with the power of it.

_No,_ Rey had realized through the sudden deafening ring in her ears _, the walls_ are _shaking._

The smashing of glass echoed as a mirror fell from its resting place onto the polished hardwood floor below. The chandelier above their heads was rattling and swaying erratically.

_“Granddad, what’s happening?”_ Rey had shrieked, cowering into Sheev’s arms instinctively.

_“It’s you, Rey,”_ Palpatine replied. _“Don’t you feel it? It’s you.”_

As quickly as it had begun, it stopped, everything coming to an abrupt standstill. Palpatine pulled her back so she could see his eyes, pitch black and shark-like in the dim lighting. The smile on his lips was wide enough for her to see his yellowing molars.

Something inside Rey retreated—she _did_ feel it, this strange _thing_ , releasing its hold and hiding again.

_“What was that?”_ Rey was terrified.

_“Power,”_ Palpatine had grinned. _“Sheer, terrific power.”_

She had learned two very important things that day—one: she was a witch, one born of a bloodline strong and ancient, and two: nothing would ever be the same again.

* * *

"Rey, you in here? I got that bag of plant food you wanted."

Rey startled at the sound of Rose's voice, almost dropping the small spray bottle of water she was using to spritz her pink orchids.

"I'm coming!" she called back into the front of the small shop, putting down her spray bottle and brushing her hands down the front of her denim overalls. Despite her efforts, the muck and grime and sweat that came with spending too much time in the adjacent greenhouse refused to budge.

Rose was waiting for her at the front counter, a ten-kilogram bag of the best plant food the nearest Costco had to offer cradled in her arms. Her friend was obviously straining with the weight of it, her face pinched. 

"Rey, love, I really need to know where you want this."

Rey laughed. "Just drop it on the floor, I'll deal with it later."

"Yes, captain," Rose replied, letting the bag fall to the floor with a loud thud. "Damn, I really need to make Finn come with me on these supply runs. He can carry, like, three of those without breaking a sweat."

"Yeah, but he'd probably complain the whole time."

Rose hummed in agreement. "God, he'd probably give me a migraine."

"They do say love is pain," Rey teased. "Come on, you can come into the back and sit down for a moment. I know your back's killing you."

"Damn right it is," Rose scoffed as they both moved through into the small alcove where Rey did her readings. Two plush chairs were cradled around a wooden table she'd dragged in from the nearby dump. It gleamed from the work she'd put into restoring it and housed her box of tarot cards and a few tall white candles for protection and light.

Rose collapsed into the opposite chair with a satisfied groan. "You're the best, honestly."

"I know," Rey clapped her hands together as she settled into her seat, leaning in closer to her friend. “So how is Finn? I haven’t seen him around lately.”

Rose’s eyes rolled. “Neither have I,” she replied. “Poe has got him working mega overtime. Apparently, there’s a shortage in catch this season.”

“A shortage?” Rey’s brow furrowed. “That’s unusual.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. It’s all he ever talks about whenever he’s home. They’re pulling up nets with barely anything in them.”

“That’s strange,” Rey hummed.

An unlucky fishing season was virtually unheard of. Exegol had always had a prosperous fishing business—near about everyone worked down at the docks in _Alliance Fisheries_. Her grandfather had once told her, in the last of his lucid moments, that her ancestors had blessed the seas for delivering them safely from Romania to Exegol. The journey had been perilous, but the ocean had favoured them. They’d arrived unscathed and built a town out of nothing.

“Look, hun, I’ve gotta go,” Rose announced, rising to her feet. “I’ve got like three other deliveries to do before I go home.”

“Of course,” Rey smiled, walking her friend back through to the double doors that made up the entrance of _Rey’s Flowers and Enchantments_. “Tell Finn I said hi.”

Something about Rose’s words stayed with Rey as she finished up in the shop and prepared to close for the day. She could almost hear her grandfather’s voice loud and clear in her head, telling her that if something _felt_ wrong, it most likely _was_ wrong. A witch’s intuition never lies.

She was sure it was nothing—it had to be nothing—but she knew her nerves wouldn’t settle unless she did a quick reading. So, she sat down at her quaint little table and laid her tarot card deck out in front of her in three neat piles. The cards were soft and creased from decades of usage. Palpatine had gifted them to her on her eighteenth birthday—the last they’d spent together before his dementia had begun to eat away at all that he was. It was one of very few memories of him that she still treasured.

Rey closed her eyes and inhaled in deep for five seconds, and then out for eight. She did this a handful of times until she felt the tension in her shoulders leave and her head clear. Deep inside her, something slithered, hungry. She’d cringed as a child at the sensation of her power coming alive, but now, at the age of twenty, she welcomed the familiar feeling.

Rey thought of Palpatine’s funeral. She thought of the anguish she’d felt as he was lowered into the ground—the stinging realization that her grandfather had abandoned her like her parents before him. She fed it until it grew, like a flame, up into her mind where she could harness it.

Rey only opened her eyes after pulling a card. She stiffened as she flipped it over, recognising it for the vivid, horrifying warning that it was. Of course, she’d pulled one of the most volatile cards in the deck. The Tower.

Her head throbbed. She knew animals avoided places where death and darkness dwelled. Birds hadn’t even _flown_ above Palpatine Manor while her grandfather had still breathed. The fish were avoiding Exegol’s shores for a reason.

Something bad was coming.

For the first time in years, Rey wished her grandfather was still alive.


	2. i'm gonna raise the stakes, i'm gonna smoke you out;

_**Holy water cannot help you now** _  
_**Hours and armies couldn't keep me out;** _

* * *

Out of all the places for his redemption to hide, he never expected to find it in a buttfuck coastal town in the middle of nowhere.

Everything in Exegol was old—Ben doubted that any of the buildings lining High Street were younger than one hundred. It was old and used and dim but somehow still _alive_ , like a flickering lightbulb that just wouldn’t die. Even the town’s bed and breakfast, _Seaside Wonders_ , was a rickety, shithole of a building, but there was a charm to it that he begrudgingly accepted the whole town seemed to have.

_Leia would’ve loved this place_ , he found himself musing as he stepped forward into _Seaside Wonders._ Yes, she would’ve loved it, and she would’ve called it something stupid like _rustic_ and his father would’ve laughed and gloated that his wife could always see the beauty in things. Thinking of his parents left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t realize he was scowling until the petite lady at the desk asked him if he was alright.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied gruffly. “How much for two nights?”

He didn’t expect to stay in Exegol for long. It was a tiny place, almost nothing compared to the sprawling suburbs and streets of Chandrila where he’d grown up. He was sure that what he was looking for was not going to take a relatively long time to find.

“A hundred,” the woman replied with a beaming smile. “So, what brings you to Exegol?”

He took out his wallet from the inside of his coat and fished out two fifties, then handed them over to her.

“Sight-seeing.” It was better than admitting what he was really there for.

His answer seemed to satisfy her. “Yeah, it’s beautiful here. We don’t get many tourists even though we really should. You should stop by the cliffs up on the East side of town—the view of the sea from there is breath-taking.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Ben murmured.

“I’m Rose Tico, by the way,” the woman introduced herself as she reached behind her to fetch a set of keys off the hook board. “I own this place with my husband. He works down at the docks. Hey, you should check the docks out, too! They’re wonderful to watch the sunset on, trust me.”

_Jesus, shut the fuck up_ , Ben thought tiredly to himself as he followed Rose down a narrow corridor to the room he’d be staying in. She didn’t stop talking the entire time, going on and on about places he could stop by and _Oh! My friend owns a flower shop but she also does tarot card readings if that’s your thing. You should check it out!_

Ben really couldn’t give a shit. The journey from Chandrila to Exegol had been long and exhaustive and he was starting to run out of patience.

“Okay, honey, here you go,” Rose said as she swung open the door. The bedroom was small and quaint but nice enough, with honey-coloured curtains and a fluffy shag carpet that looked way cleaner than any motel flooring he’d ever seen. It was well-kept. Plus the bed was a decent size—Ben could probably lie straight on it without having his feet dangle off the end.

“If you need anything just come down to the front desk. Sometimes I do supply runs for the shops on the High Street on afternoons, but my sister Paige should be hanging around somewhere if I’m not here.”

“Cool,” was Ben’s cold reply.

Rose scurried away at that and then he was all alone, and it was finally blissfully quiet. Ben shrugged off his coat and dropped his bag and the room key on the small little table by the window. He could admit that it was a nice view. The waters around Exegol were tranquil and a bright blue. Like the calm before a storm.

_Guess that makes me the storm,_ he smirked to himself.

The en-suite was as satisfactory as the room and fully stocked on toiletries that he would definitely steal on his way out. It was only after he’d taken a steaming hot shower and relaxed into clean flowery bed sheets that he allowed himself to focus on why he’d been called to Exegol in the first place. Sure, he was tired and cranky and really needed a good eight hours but he was also _eager_. There was no harm in extending his reach and seeing just where his prize had burrowed itself.

Ben rolled his shoulders back, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The distant sound of waves crashing onto the shore and the calming whistling of wind through wooden shutters drew him under. And under he went, into the void that he could only call his soul, where it hid and waited for him to outstretch his hand. It wasn’t his, this starving thing, and it didn’t feel right to let it unfurl in his insides and carve a place for itself where his heart should’ve been. But it was _power_ , power that Ben needed to complete the mission he’d been given, and so he welcomed it as best as he could.

When it was ready, he visualized tendrils stretched far and outwards over the skies of Exegol. These tendrils thickened and darkened until they felt like a part of his very being hovering over the seaside town. Then he loosened his hold and let them shoot downwards, searching.

He didn’t expect to hit what felt like a big fucking brick wall. His tendrils shot back into him instantly, stung and weakened, and he flew back into the thick wooden headboard with the sudden violent sensation.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Ben gasped, fumbling his way off the bed and onto his feet. He raised a hand up to his sternum and rubbed it, wincing gently at the ache that had begun to bloom there.

It was protection, he realized, his stomach sinking. A barrier of some sort had been erected over Exegol, probably to fight off the type of attack that he had just tried to carry out. He should’ve fucking known that it wasn’t going to be that easy. He had never been that lucky.

Either someone knew about what he was looking for and was trying to stop anyone else from finding it (which couldn’t be possible, because that person was supposed to be dead), or there was more to Exegol than he’d originally thought. Personally, he didn’t like either of the two options because that meant his time spent in the town was going to be more than just playing a game of hide and seek with an artifact.

“Fuck!"

* * *

Rey was on her knees scrubbing at the hardwood floors in Palpatine Manor’s kitchen when she felt it. Her breath shot out of her lungs and she collapsed backwards, heaving with the effort to keep herself breathing. Her chest felt like it had caved in.

Gasping, Rey reached blindly for the marble countertop and used it to hoist herself to her feet, away from the suffocating fumes of the chemical cleaners she’d been using. Once upright, she concentrated on inhaling and exhaling in a calm steady rhythm until she felt like her body wasn’t outright rejecting the oxygen it needed anymore.

Whatever had tried breaking through her protection barriers had been strong—scarily, freakishly strong. She’d never felt anything like that, not since she’d first practiced erecting them with her grandfather.

Walking out of the manor and following the weathered path down the cliff to where her protections lay was harder than Rey would ever admit. Each step seemed to take a gargantuan effort and she knew that if whatever—or _whoever_ —had attacked tried to do so again, she probably wouldn’t be able to take it. She needed to reinforce Exegol before that happened.

The feeling of sand under her bare feet was comforting and it kept her grounded in the moment as she knelt at the temporary altar she’d erected. This was the land that had raised her and the waves that had cleansed her. She drew strength from that.

The jars of herbs and precious stones she’d gathered had been shattered. The ashes of the incense she’d lit that morning were spread out chaotically, like the wind had picked them up and thrown them back down in a childish fit. Rey buried her hands down into the sand below and threw everything she had into purifying the space.

It took more out of her than she would ever admit. She swayed on her knees but something kept her upright—familiar hands on her shoulders.

_“Rey, you can’t let him find it.”_

“Find what?” Rey spat out through gritted teeth. It had been two years since Palpatine’s death and she had never sensed him, even in her darkest moments, but one attempt on Exegol and his presence was suddenly engulfing every inch of her space. She felt him in the cracks of her mind and heart and soul. That familiar black, thick energy that she’d grown to love and hate at the same time.

_“Don’t let him find it.”_

“Find what!?” she screamed again, but to no avail. She felt Sheev take his leave, his soul brushing over everything it could as he did so, and then she was alone again and in so much pain. But she had a job to finish.

Rey put everything she had left into finishing what she’d started. Tears and snot alike streamed down her face with the effort of it. She felt it all coming together again, like a puzzle piece slotting back into place, and looked down through bleary eyes to see her jars intact again. Exegol was safe once more.

Rey fell back into the sand and curled up into herself, shuddering with exhaustion. She was going to need something stronger than jars and incense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!!!! Hope you like this one. I hope to update daily cuz i've got the plot planned out and i've got nothing else to do anyway haha  
> But year, i hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!  
> Please leave me a kudo and a comment if you can!  
> <3


	3. revelations;

_**I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead,** _   
_**I lift my lids and all is born again;** _

* * *

Through-out most of her childhood, Rey had essentially raised herself. Palpatine had preferred to leave her to her own devices, only interfering with a meagre effort at parenting whenever he had felt that it was truly required. She would cut her hands open from climbing the fruit trees out in the manor’s sprawling garden, he would rub a healing salve on the stinging wounds, and then he’d call her a pitiful fool of a girl for crying instead of comforting her like a mother or father would.

" _Wipe your tears. Do you think that life is easy? Do you think that suffering will spare you because you cry? Crying will do nothing but wet your cheeks and waste your time. A witch from my bloodline would be stronger than this—you should be stronger than this. Perhaps I should’ve left you to rot alongside your parents in England.”_

Her lessons with Sheev had been the only true quality time that they had ever spent together in the decade that he had still lived. The craft that her grandfather had taught her was what had been passed down to him through generations of former Palpatine witches. Hundreds of hands born from the same bloodline had scrawled spells and recipes and their family’s history into the crinkled thick yellow pages of a leather-backed book; one that her grandfather had gleefully introduced to her as the prized Palpatine grimoire. They would study these entries together and then he would make her practice whatever she’d learnt until she would either perfect it or collapse from exhaustion.

_“Failure,”_ Sheev had repeatedly told her, _“is not an option. Especially for you.”_

Later, after he’d died and Rey was forced to reflect in her grief, she would come to the sickening realization that her grandfather’s way of showing that he cared for her had been through measured acts of cruelty.

* * *

Poe Dameron had been a pain in Rey’s ass since they’d first met as seniors in high school. Rose had begun dating Finn at that time, and since Poe had been Finn’s best friend, he’d been forced to integrate into their little group of outcasts seemingly against his will. Though Finn had warmed up to Rey relatively quickly, Poe had not, and he’d made her life a living hell in the meantime. Things had only begun to mellow out between them on the morning after Rose’s eighteenth birthday party, in which they’d both found themselves disgustingly hungover and definitely naked together in Paige Tico’s childhood bed. While they were definitely on better terms nowadays than they had ever been as teenagers, Rey would probably never see Poe Dameron as anything more than the entitled asshole that he was.

“What do you want, Poe?” Rey sighed, crouching down to bring a set of lavender scented wax melts closer to the front of the shelving.

Said asshole was currently standing in the middle of her shop, watching her arrange a new candle display with a stupid shit-eating grin plastered on his face. He hadn’t even said anything but Rey could already feel her temples begin to throb with annoyance.

“I need one of them good luck talismans you sell. You know, with that blue eye on ‘em?”

Curious, Rey stood up to face him. Poe had never once seen her knowledge of the occult as anything more than another reason to dislike her, but now he was asking her for talismans? Rey never thought she’d see the day.

“Why?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t believe in that 'witchy stuff'.”

“I don’t,” he replied defensively. “But shit’s been hard down at the docks lately and we could use all the luck we can get. Even the stupid witchy kind.”

Rey’s brow furrowed. “You still haven’t caught any fish yet?”

“Nope,” Poe said, popping the ‘p’. “Two hundred years of fishing these waters without a hiccup and now suddenly we can’t even lift up a goddamn sardine. Wish my dad was still alive to see this; he’d probably lose his fuckin’ mind.”

If the fish hadn’t returned even after Rey put stronger protection spells in place, then that meant that whatever darkness they’d fled was still very much alive and present in Exegol. Part of Rey had hoped that whoever had attacked the town would leave after realizing that it was being defended, but it was beginning to dawn on her that that was very much not the case. Her grandfather’s haunting warning replayed in her head: _“Don’t let him find it.”_ If they were indeed looking for something, a few measly barrier spells would not be enough to ward them off.

Rey knew she needed to make the first move before they did.

“Right, what type to do you want? A necklace, a pin, a dreamcatcher? I have loads.”

“A necklace? Really?” Poe rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Rey, I have a reputation here. You got anything I can stash in my boat without anyone seeing?”

After Dameron had left with his talismans and strict instructions to leave them out in the moonlight for three consecutive nights (which she doubted he would follow, especially with the way he’d snorted at her when she’d suggested it), Rey latched her shop doors shut, flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’, and then started breaking out the supplies she’d need to scry.

A map of Exegol was laid out straight on her reading table. She placed four quartz crystals on each corner to weigh it down and then lifted the silver pendulum necklace she was going to use high above it. As always, Rey closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady herself. She reached deep within herself to where her writhing power awaited and fed it the raging anguish it desired until it was warm and pliable and ready for her to use as she wished.

“Show me where they are,” she commanded softly as she dipped the necklace three times. “Show me where darkness dwells in Exegol.”

The pendulum began to swing in a smooth circle around the centre of the map—Exegol’s town hall. Rey chanted inwardly again, _show me where they are_ , and the pendulum’s circle began to widen.

Flashes of images lit up behind Rey’s eyelids. She was tracing their steps, following them as they drove past the blurry blue of the town’s faded _Welcome to Exegol!_ sign. The pendulum was not all-powerful; it couldn’t show her why they were in Exegol or what they were looking for, but it could give her insights into the impressions that they left behind until it could decide on where they were at that moment. She settled into these impressions like a toddler slipping their feet into their father’s much bigger shoes. She felt like a man—she felt confident and excited but also so tired. Bone-weary tired. Rey swayed in her seat under the weight of it. The pendulum’s movements became faster.

Then she was pulling into a parking lot. It felt familiar but Rey couldn’t place it, her mind racing to make sense of these new sensations and memories that were never hers. She was stepping into a building, she was talking—her voice is deep. She couldn’t make out what she was saying.

_Focus!_ Rey yelled inwardly but found that she couldn’t. The surging power inside of her was struggling and she was losing her hold on it all, the images slipping from her minds eye like sand through her fingers. Still, she fought it, the silver chain of the necklace cutting into her skin as she tightened her grip.

_Where are you? Show me._

**_No._ **

The voice in her head wasn’t hers anymore. No, this was _him._ He’d seen her. He somehow knew that she was scrying for him and he’d _seen_ her. Dread made Rey’s blood run cold in her veins. His energy was heavy, pressing down on Rey until she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She felt him attempting to sink claws deep into the crevices of her mind, probing, trying to trace her as she was trying to trace him. Rey hardened herself against his advances, and as he was struggling to break through and regain the upper hand, she was grasping at the little clues he was letting slip.

The salty smell of the sea, the feeling of thick carpet under her toes, the warm laugh of a woman she considered family.

Rey finally gave in to the screaming power within her and let go. The connection between them snapped and then disintegrated as if it was never there—he was gone and she was alone in her mind again. When she opened her eyes, the pendulum froze and then dropped straight down onto the map below.

_Seaside Wonders_. The bastard was staying in Rose and Finn’s bed and breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're gonna have some big drama in the next one boys which will hopefully be up tomorrow night  
> i've been having these massive impulsive moments where i just start renovating a corner of my house so i get distracted. Quarantine is killing me.
> 
> thanks for reading!! hope you enjoyed!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! please comment and leave some kudos!  
> thank you for reading! :)


End file.
